Frown upon your brow
by Borderwalker
Summary: Harry does what Harry does best to Draco's dislike. And yeah, you get to know why Remus borrowed that book from Snape.
1. Frown upon your brow

Rating: G for now, but don't expect it to last…

Parings: At large Lupin/Snape, but if I'm feeling inclined towards it while writing the later chapters I might throw a little Harry/Draco into the back ground.

Warning: Nothing for now.

Summary: Snape's brooding and being an ass to his students (what's new here), Lupin's being miserable and trying to cope with both his own grief and Harry's at the same time. Then there's Draco's initiation coming up, but before that comes Snape's birthday…

Disclaimer: Miss J.K. Rowling would probably choke reading past the first part of my story, since I am borrowing her little brain squirts without any kind of permission. Then again, so are most of you too, "Evil grin." Let it be our little secret.

A/N: This is my first attempt at posting a fic here, so if you can't be kind to me, then at least feed my ego with a little flaming. All criticism is proof someone read my shit!

Prologue: Stealing through the night

It was calm for a while, for some treacherous moments something resembling peace touched the features of the otherwise haughty face. The illusion was almost unnatural and it shattered soon enough; pain shone through, melting into the wrinkles and lines. Was it evidence of nightmares, or perhaps some physical discomfort? Not easy to say really, but it kept surfacing, like ripples on a blackened pond, and Remus Lupin kept on watching.

It was rude, perhaps… technically it was trespassing, it was just. He'd found the door relatively unlocked, and he had expected to find Snape up working. And it wasn't like he had intended to stay; the vision had somehow entrapped him, entranced him, most like a lava lamp, or something of the sort.

All other people he'd had the chance to watch while they slept seemed to let go of the day when they drifted into their slumber; generally looking more at ease and somewhat younger. How come Snape did not, didn't the pensive ensure his sleep to be dreamless? 'Perhaps' Remus thought reflectively to himself, 'perhaps it's a wonder he sleeps at all.' He found himself smiling sadly. 'You bitter old fool, a blessing on you so you don't bite your tongue.'

Uncomfortably thoughtful and feeling slightly giddy Lupin stalked over to the bookcase. With a wave of relieve he confirmed the absence of protective spells and exhumed the tome he'd set out to borrow. 'Won't he be livid when he snoops out I've been here.' Lupin seriously doubted it would make things worse though. After the reinstatement Snape seemed to hate him with rekindled passion. Lupin sighed as he closed the door behind him.

'These halls…' The ragged, lanky werewolf moved swiftly in the shroud of the night, letting his heightened senses guide him so he wouldn't unnecessarily scare any prefects on night patrol. 'These halls hold too many memories.' The night seemed livid about him, somewhere in the periphery of his consciousness grief begged to be let in, but he wouldn't have any of it, not yet. 'I had they weren't memories. Why is life set so, that my heart won't acknowledge that he's gone?'

It had been the same when James and Lily died, and as he believed at the time Peter with them. He hadn't wanted to believe it; it had been too painful to bear.

Now… now it was so much worse, because Sirius had been miraculously restored and for the first time in years it had felt safe to let his breath out… He wasn't alone…

'I shouldn't.' Lupin opened the door to his chamber, letting himself in. 'I should think of Harry, he's lost so much more than I. At least I had the chance to know them.' The reminder tore at his heart. 'I can't lie down and die yet, I've got to…'

Something broke on the inside; Remus fell to his knees on the floor next to his desk. He buried his face in his hands in a vain attempt to keep his emotions in check. "I won't wallow in self pity!" He scolded himself. "I shouldn't have to justify my existence to myself; I can still be of use here."

With concentration straining the fringed reminder of his nerves Lupin got to his feet and opened the tome on his worktop. He began with browsing through the index, finding what he was after soon enough.


	2. Indifference and resent

Rating: PG for now, but don't expect it to last…

Parings: At large Lupin/Snape, but if I'm feeling inclined towards it while writing the later chapters I might throw a little Harry/Draco into the back ground.

Warning: Some foul language.

Summary: Snape's brooding and being an ass to his students (what's new here), Lupin's being miserable and trying to cope with both his own grief and Harry's at the same time. Then there's Draco's initiation coming up, but before that comes Snape's birthday…

Disclaimer: Miss J.K. Rowling would probably choke reading past the first part of my story, since I am borrowing her little brain squirts without any kind of permission. Then again, so are most of you too, "Evil grin." Let it be our little secret.

Indifference and resent

Someone had been in his chambers and it didn't take Professor Severus Snape long to figure out who the malingerer was. That pesky little mongrel, just because he already was where he had no right being didn't grant him the freedom to go adventuring about around peoples private spaces. Fuming with more than just anger the potions master almost tore the fabrics of his robes while dressing. He glared at his haggard expression in the mirror and left the room, striding up from the dungeons to participate at breakfast.

Lupin was already sitting up at the teachers table, stirring his tea absently. He looked as right should be like a ghost of his former self, and to no wonder the way he kept drinking and lurking about in the early hours. Snape sent him a venomous glare as he sat down as far away as possible. A slight smirk touched Lupin's lips as their eyes met, 'great,' Snape wanted to curse him right there. 'Tired to the hollow of his bones, but never too worn out to mock me.'

Snape decided not to dwell on it for the moment; he had more important things to consider, like his godson's coming of age. One glance down at the slytherin table reminded him once again what a difficult task this was turning into.

Draco had changed the last months; Snape couldn't help feeling like he was loosing touch. It made him fear for the future. This pride that was growing in the boy, this desperate need to prove there was strength in the Malfoy family yet, it could only lead to ruin and despair. 'I would know.' Snape thought with a sardonic sigh. 'I too was young when I got the mark, though I seriously doubt age would've heightened the experience.' He remembered feeling that same pride; he remembered the arrogance of it. How could he convince Draco to turn from that path now without sounding like a traitor, not only to the dark lord, but to Draco's endeavours as well?

It saddened the bitter man, to see his godson needing to grow up in such a hurry, watching it from the sideline because he was restrained from interfering. He could only do so much without giving himself away and the guilt was eating at him. Hopefully the little he managed to do would prove fruitful, and maybe in the end Draco would live, if not in freedom.

Potter was down there too, it was almost impossible not to look towards him; the spectacle he made of himself. Snape felt his stomach turn. 'That boy walks through hell and comes out unscathed, and worse, he doesn't learn a thing. Such a stupid boy.'

Snape stopped himself before the whole loathing issue got out of hand. Potter 'could've' been a good kid, but Dumbledore let him off far too easy. And what was the result; tragedy so grim he'd almost felt sorry for that nightmare of a dog of a man. Snape had to banish him from his mind before he accidentally destroyed the silverware or stabbed himself with it.

'Sirius is dead now.' The thought was as cold as a rock and as unfulfilling. 'Faith proved me right, yet I can't bring myself to care.' The food tasted sullen. 'He must be laughing in his grave, the sadistic menace. I wonder now that I'm more mature, how could ever my despair have been so entertaining?'

Lost to his morose musings Snape didn't eat any more and consequently needed to face the third year Huffelpuff and Ravenclaws on an empty stomach. It was a challenge at better days to handle the upnosy knowitalls, and the uninspired airheads… No, Snape didn't like to label, they were all children; they were all intolerable.

What would Lupin want with that book? He wondered as he withdrew house points from Hufflepuff for the ineptness of a stocky little girl who added too much sulphur, causing the potion to boil over the edge of the cauldron and down at the floor. "Mop it up at once, and I'd like you to write an essay explaining why that happened, hand it in tomorrow."

'What would a werewolf need animagus studies for anyway? And why couldn't he just have borrowed it out of the library?' Perhaps he didn't want it recorded for some reason, but then stealing from a man who hated his guts wouldn't be the wisest way to go about it. 'He was probably too lazy, too impatient, had to read some chapter tonight and couldn't wait for the morning…' Either way, Snape had no intention of letting this pass without notion.

---

'Right timely of you isn't it, to just swoop down like that?' Draco Malfoy was fuming; pretty sure he'd never been more embarrassed in his entire life. 'Kind of makes me appreciate the fact that my dad's in Azkaban…'

And obtuse idiot kept standing there, having the gall to ask:"You couldn't just reach your hand out?" What was so frigging mysterious about that? If Draco had felt the least bit inclined towards satisfying Potter's curiosity, he'd been happy to tell him he'd ratter chop it off. Actually he was considering chewing it off right at the moment; he wasn't too thrilled about having it about to remind him of what had happened.

"Just sod off, I'll get you for this." The green eyes did a loop behind the round glasses; Potter turned his back and walked away across the quiddich pitch, probably scared off by Vincent and Gregory. 'Thank god for loyal underlings.'

"Uhm… Draco are you okay?" If he was oaky? He'd almost broken his neck falling from his broom, and then his arch nemesis had the gall to come swooping by saving said neck… "Look what he went and did to my robe." Showing them where the seam had ripped when Potter had grabbed him seconds before impact. "Typical potter." Blasie exclaimed coming up to them. "Making a scene to get everyone's attention." Draco could've wished he was able to say Zabini's voice sported some sort of loyal support, but he knew it was all for show. At that he felt a bit self conscious sitting on the ground and got to his feet, feeling sick at himself for creating such a wonderful chase for Potter to show off his Gryffindor heroics.

"What happened?" Blasie asked, genuinely interested, but probably not out of sympathy as much as he wanted to know why his house mate had made an ass of himself. Draco knew this all too well and felt temped to just shrug it off; it wasn't like the Zabini family had any important standing after all. Then something occurred to him, just as Pansy came running with her posse of Slytherin girls.

"I got this tingling feeling." He lied quite bluntly. "And then it all turned black for a few seconds, next thing I knew I was falling." Well aware that half his audience saw right through it, but he also knew the ones intelligent enough to see the lie for what it was would also see the purpose of it. Pansy did at least, going for the chance as if she smelled blood. "Golden boy needs to make a grand return, _saves_ loathed enemy." She said it as if reciting a head line, smiling wickedly. Draco smiled back, loving the idea, loving her for taking the attention away from his embarrassing fall, creating such a beautiful opportunity to slander.

Vincent pulled at his robe, "What does she mean?" Draco rolled his eyes at the toil it was; needing to explain every little thing, and then spoon-fed the story to his two minions. Soon they frowned angrily cracking their knuckles. Draco wondered if perhaps he should tell them it was all a big filthy lie, but decided against it, it would be too much for their under developed brains to digest.

So then he was safe, for now, nobody would pest him about falling off his broom in that ridiculous way as long as they had this to gossip about. And by the time they were sick of it, most would have forgotten.

---

He wished Ron would just shut up about it, he wished Hermione wouldn't need to get that loud trying to make him.

Sure she was right, it was just the kind of thing Harry did, but he was sick of it, he wished he'd just let that rotten apple fall to the ground. It was a shame he didn't stop to think at moments like that. He'd seen him fall, seen that petrified surprise, and somehow he had been indifferent to it. And he had been thinking, he had even been half choking on his contempt to be able to dive after the git…

Harry wished he knew, he just didn't want to be that kind of person, able to watch without acting, but still… Somewhere deep down he knew he hadn't cared much, and Malfoy probably would've recovered just fine, even if he'd have to spend a couple of days at the infirmary. Everything would've been fine, it wasn't like it really mattered anyway… He just…

"For the love of God, Ron!" Ron froze looking at him, Hermione shut up as well, startled surprise. "Do you want me to go back in time, is that it, do you want me to go back in time and make it so it never happened?" They stared at him as if he'd gone mad, Harry felt light headed, he frowned. "Fine, I'll study night and day until I find a way to prevent that terrible thing from happening."

There was that little glimmer, perhaps of a tear in Hermiones eyes. Harry saw it and it stung, his mind didn't want to interpret it's meaning, Harry sniggered. He couldn't keep serious, a smile dragged itself across his face and he laughed a little, relieved to hear Ron join in. But she, she just looked sad all the same. "Harry, don't joke about it." Harry gave her a playful shove. "You mean about studying day and night?" Luring her smile out, lifting the weight off Harries shoulders.

He was eternally grateful to still have them, thinking about all they had been through together. These years and this year, next the last year of school. Soon it would all be good, not too long now.

"Excuse me, I have to, I forgot about this book. I 'll catch up with you." Falling back, turning, and walking towards the library, feeling Hermiones eyes burning into his back. The question came haunting him again, what would all be good? Tears burned in his eyes, he felt furious and numb. It was al his fault, there wasn't any other way to see it, and there sure as hell wasn't any redemption to be found.

Everybody seemed to know about it, no perhaps they didn't, but… perhaps it was just the same curiosity, the same suspicion they had always regarded him with, ever since he came to Hogwarts. It was just, it had never felt this real before, he had never really considered the possibility there was something to it. But now, now Harry found himself starting to worry, though he wished to god he could say it wasn't so.

---

They just loved to talk about him didn't they? Maybe it was so that since they weren't exactly praising the daft fucker, (rather the opposite at that,) he was supposed to be pleased, or at least amused, but the thing was, it was boring boring boring. 'Change the record, hell shred that shitty piece of crap!'

'Grumble grumble grumble gruble.' And they were only just back from the field. Couldn't it occur to any of the morons that maybe he wasn't all that interested in being reminded of the accursed incidence. So what if it was his own fault for making the story up in the first place, it still wasn't fair. And it sure as hell didn't prevent him from blaming it all on Potter… in fact, he didn't see why the golden boy should be let of the hook this easy.

As he thought about it he began realising it had been due for a long time, setting the stupid snottling up, like really setting him up, so he wouldn't need to look at him ever again. And what was the most precious thing to the idiot, his friends? Draco didn't think so, it was his pride, that heroic image he'd wound up about himself. Sure Potter didn't go about using words like that for it, but he certainly was a self righteous little brat, it was time somebody rubbed his nose it.

The image made Draco smile, he knew he was conceited, he didn't mind it much. What he did mind was coming home for the holidays, being greeted by his father's old friends wanting to know why they had been hearing about how Potter had saved his unworthy hide. He'd rather die than suffer that kind of humiliation, yes that's right; die. 'And all things considered…' Draco smiled slyly to himself. 'That might not be the worst idea I've ever had.'

---

Harry had spent about an hour in the library, turning pages through a number of useless, unentertaining books, finding a slight comfort in his relative solitude. He kept musing around the possibility that time travel might be possible after all, even if at that scale it had to be considered dark magic.

In the back of his mind he kept mentally preparing himself for Hermione coming looking for him, wanting to know what he had been doing, and what could he say. She probably would respect it if he asked her for some time to be alone, but he didn't want her to know he needed it. It was immensely stupid of course, since she obviously saw right through him and worried even more since he didn't talk to her about it.

Ron was a lot nicer that way, he too knew there was something off about Harry and he probably had a good idea about the reason. But Harry knew Ron didn't worry about him, he was just waiting patiently for the time to come where Harry either shared his worries or got over it.

Somehow Harry found he resented Ron a tinsy bit for that very reason, even it he knew it was completely uncalled for. 'God I'm exhausted.' Harry buried his face in his hands and tried to will the pain away. When he straightened his back again it was with a new resolve to overcome his own anxiety, but then he regretted lifting his head at all.

Snape stood across the floor, and had apparently just spotted his least favourite student because the expression of disgust hadn't settled completely. Eyes narrowing he came striding towards the table where Harry sat, obviously with something on his heart. "A word." It was an odd request, Harry found himself nodding with a feeling of dread as he realised Snape was working with his wand casting some kind of spell. He caught the words 'obfuscate' and 'deflection' before the professor was done and realised he was supposed to be learning this spell for his homework in charms.

"I 'de like to congratulate you." Snape spat viciously once he was done. "On what?" Harry asked indifferently, wondering at this sudden need for discretion on the Professor behalf. What, was he going to beat him or something? "On elevating yourself above the rubble, once again." Harry felt like he was going to catch a strain to his eyes trying to keep from rolling them. "You of all people." Harry said silently. "Would you ratter I let him fall?"

Snape looked like he wondered where Harry took his gall from; speaking in that manner. The beetle black eyes darkened, but his voice sounded strangely casual as he spoke. "Even if I do regard you of limited intelligence, I still expect you to be able to work some certain little things out on your own." "I thought you cared about him." Harry objected, at this Snape seemed to pale and sour up at the same time. A tired little smile played mockingly on the stern lips. "Or perhaps you're not all that stupid after all, boy. Perhaps you did it on purpose…"

Harry didn't understand and he was beginning to loose the little patience he had to begin with. Rolling his eyes in an exaggerated manner he donned the most stupid expression he could muster, making the Potions master loose his composure completely. "Ho do you think makes the stand or fall of the Malfoy family for the time being? Do you think Draco can afford this?!" Harry tried to care he honestly did, but he couldn't, what was the big deal about it anyway. "Then he shouldn't be falling off his broom like that."

The haughty professor leaned over the desk with a dangerous expression on his face. When he lifted his hand Harry thought for a split second he was going to get hit and in a reflex he thought he had lost over the last years he flinched slightly in anticipation of it. Snape would've noticed if he hadn't been distracted by one of the books lying on the desk. "Really Potter." He said picking the book up turning it over in his hands. "Well I'm hardly surprised."

Harry didn't quite know how to take the change of atmosphere, something distantly resembling amusement showed in the professor's face and was also evident in his voice as he recited the title. "How to make 'him' notice you: a fun and rewarding way for young witches to put theory into practice."

Humiliation was near perfect, Harry didn't know what to say to his own defences, he wished he had paid more attention picking the books out of the shelves. Snape looked like he was putting together some extraordinarily nasty and insulting remark, but then as faith tends to be cruel; he never got to use it. Harry sighed in relieve as he noticed Remus coming towards them with a book and a note in his hands, but then he remembered the spell Snape had cast.

Snape noticed the other man, staring at him with a hint of paranoia, but mostly just anger and resent. Remus seemed to be looking for something; he kept gazing to and fro, glancing down at the note from time to time. In the end he whispered in a hiss. "Severus, I know you're there." This amused Harry, he sniggered at the perplexed expression on Snape's face and got a scowl in return. "Sev, I need to talk to you." In the end Snape rolled his eyes and expelled the diversion. "Very well Lupin." He spat, "What is it you want?"

Remus took a couple of seconds getting used to the change of view. "Oh there you are." He noted timidly. Then he noticed Harry and frowned. "What, is this some kind of tutoring session?" Snape did for some reason look like he was ready to punch Remus right to the ground and probably trash him a bit for good measure.

Remus still looked timid, then he appeared to make a half heartedly attempt to start a conversation. "So what are you teaching him?" He asked, snapping the book out of Snape's hands. "Oh okay, it this some kind of project of sorts?"

Harry blushed, He had been silent up till now in hope of learning what Remus needed to talk to Snape for, now that interest died away replaced by horror. "Oh nono, Professor, honestly." He spluttered. "I um, Ginny wanted me to bring that by for her." Harry got to his feet taking the book from Remus hands, "So I'll, um, go give it to her now." He glanced at them. "If you'd excuse me, Professors." Glad Snape had somehow decided to let it be for now Harry hurried off. He got half the way to the Gryffindor common room when he noticed he still had the stupid book in his hands.

---

Remus hoped Snape would feel above cursing him in the presence of students, but he didn't feel entirely sure about it. Snape seemed to be boiling over with anger, then he smiled cruelly and put up the same spell he had been using earlier; shielding them from prying eyes. "How did you find me you little thief!?" He spat with just anger. Lupin backed a bit off and held the note forth. "Just some simple charms, this grows a daisy when it gets close to you." Snape took the note and looked at it. "Right crude isn't it." He remarked dismissively. "Did you draw it yourself?" Remus nodded. "Look Severus, I should explain myself…"

Snape who still held his wand, pointed it at him with the same cruel smile as earlier, it had turned a little overbearing. "You think you should explain yourself? You break into my chambers, you steal my belongings, and you think you should explain yourself? Why, is this some intricate plan to get me to agree with you on something?" The reminder of the smile was gone now, Remus swallowed. "Not at all, honestly, I thought I'd find you awake. Then when I didn't, I didn't see how you could possibly get any angrier if I actually took it."

When Snape didn't add anything to this Remus felt a bit more secure. "I'm profoundly sorry, here." He held the book out to his fellow Professor. "I hope after I explain why I need it you might consider letting me borrow it for some time."

The dark haired man took some time thinking about it, the anger didn't fade, but there was curiosity too. The latter won in the end. "What do you need animagus studies for anyway?" He asked with feigned disinterest. Remus let his breath out. "You probably won't be too happy about it, but it's for Harry." Remus held his hand up when Snape was about to protest. "He needs something to take his mind of things, and I need it too, actually it's probably mostly for me." He sighed looking down. "Have a heart Severus, I know it's ironic of me to ask you this now, but this is _now_, the past won't be no more."

He felt weary and standing in the silence he got a notion he wasn't alone about it. Snape leaned slightly towards the table, crossing his arms over his chest. "I see." He muttered, defiant hostility in his voice. "I see you plan to pretend the boy's your dead friend and play make believe in the woods at night, how disgusting…" It made Remus look up in sudden sore anger. He found no words, there wasn't much point in trying to deny it either. "Will you let me have it?"

Snape shrugged and reached out for the tome, brushing off it and looking it over. "Why this one, can't you just borrow one here?" "I could…" Remus began, stepping a little closer. "But… Let me show you." He held his hand out for the book and after a bit of hesitation Snape handed it back again. "Show me what?" "You see Severus, this was the book we used." He put it down on the desk beside Snape and opened it. The Potions professor regarded his possession with newfound distaste. "Really, I should've known, you being such a sentimental fool." Remus pretended not to hear it, stroking his finger lovingly over the page. "We couldn't steal it from the library of course, it was borrowed sporadically; it would've been missed." He could hear Snape snort. "But you could steal it from our teacher?" Remus nodded absently. "Yes, it had a considerable layer of dust; we figured it would be relatively safe."

"But what were you going to show me?" Snape asked impatiently. Remus who had been lost in his memories suddenly remembered what he had intended to do. "This." He took his wand from his pocket and tapped it at the paper. "Best intentions." And over the paper it drained, violet and purple ink, countless notes and modifications. "We had it for quite some time, this is the results of months and months of careful studying."

A sound of incredulous disbelief was heard from Sanpe, he scoffed. "Good grace, what is that? Is that a little comic, is that me?" Remus had the decency to blush, turning the page over. "Nothing worth noting, it was of bad taste I assure you." Snape scoffed again. "I don't doubt it, months worth of work, now that's a joke." Remus considered ignoring the jibe, then he snorted as another memory bled through his mind. "There are countless of them you know, the way Sirius kept on drawing you… It was a bit compulsive really; I'd say you were on his mind an awful lot."

And he regretted his words even as he spoke them, but Snape didn't snap back at him, he just hung his head looking even wearier. "Hope I gave him a head ache." It made Remus smile, a strange feeling of joy sprung forth inside him before he quenched it. The smile turned dry, but it was still genuine as he looked up at the other man. "Trust me, you did." Snape looked insulted, he stood up, flicking his wand out, lifting the spell. "Very well Lupin, you can have the book. In fact you can have it for ever, I don't want it back. The fact that this monstrosity has been hidden in my bookshelf all this time sickens me." Then he turned away and walked off.

Lupin looked after him, shaking his head, muttering. "Bitter old fool." Then he walked around the desk, sitting down, continuing studying the pages of the book.


End file.
